he hears
by gallaghergrl
Summary: ...things he rather forget /:and suddenly he isn't just seeing the paintings before him  but so much more:/ sequeal to "she says" DerrickMassieCam


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><p><strong>"He Hears"<strong>  
><em>-wordsnamesandphrases-<em>  
>{things he rather forget}<p>

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><p><em>And when she says she wants someone to love<em>  
><em>I hope you know<em>  
><em>She doesn't mean you<em>  
><em>And when she breaks down and lets you down I hope you know that she...<em>

_No_  
><em>Over now, over now...<em>

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><p>Derrick feels haunted by little moments he can't seem to erase. Things he rather forget or pretend weren't happening. All these shapshots that when veiwed prove what an idiot he is even if he tries to ignore the blatant truth.<p>

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She's sleeping on his bed when she starts to make little sounds of gibberish, sleep talking he assumes, and only one thing that stands out.

_"Cam."_

.

He's trying to hold her down as she's frantic and sobbing and crying and wild as an animal, her screams choking her up and there's on thing she keeps saying.

_"Cam!"_

.

He's kissing her, more fiercely then he ever has. Usually he's gentle to the point of barely touching her it seems. His time is rough is rough and his hands around her tight and with her eyes closed she give out soft breath and occasional moans, and then she says something so low and quick he thinks he's mistaken and that it's only another wordless sigh, but deep down the truth is he knows what she said.

_"Cam-"_

.

The word is always there, half spoken and hanging in the space between them. The space he can never close because there's already someone there. Someone who's beside her, and that person will never be Derrick.

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><p>{.}<p>

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><p>He's never been in her studio before. It's the attic that's technically above her room, two doors down the hall with it's own set of stairs. She's never specifically banned him from going there, but she's never made an offer to let him see any of her work. The only painting she's done that he's seen is the scenery that is hung up in the school hallway. So when Mrs. Block tells him that Massie is up in the studio he decides to finally see it for himself. Especially since the question he has to ask will change everything, and he wants to at the very least see this little bit of her before he risks losing it all.<p>

Climbing up the wooden stairs he comes up to a huge loft. Canvases are everywhere. Paintings hanging from slanted walls, sunlight bleeding from windows that let other pictures on the ground basking in a golden glow. There are pots of paint and brushes scattered around, and an easel in the corner. Another door of to the side he assume so the bathroom. But the thing that sticks out is just how many canvases she has up here. Hundreds he can only guess. And everywhere he looks he sees it. Sees _him_. Sees them. Swallowing hard, all he can see is the images that he's familiar with and so many he's not.

There's her perfect little face so accurately detailed and _his_.

_Cam's._

Cam Fisher's face is everyway. Simple portraits, each with the same mismatched eyes, angular jaw, and shaggy onyx hair.

Sometimes he's giving a crocked smile, or his infamous smirk. There are a few of him laughing, some of him sitting in class, leaning against a tree, and even one of what looks to be Cam crying. And everywhere there aren't canvases of just Cam there's ones with him and Massie.

All moments and memories that Derrick can only guess they shared. He sees pictures of stargazing, and zoo trips. Them at a worn down beach house, ice skating, or just simply lying on beds and couches holding each other. He sees what he swears to be Cam holding Massie from the night of the car crash during the yard party. Them dancing at parties and exploring forests. All Derrick can see is Massie and Cam. And suddenly he isn't just seeing the paintings before him but his only memories of those two. And how stupid he had been for seeing it all in front of him and not knowing what was so obvious.

There are two more painting that stick out to Derrick. One more of Cam this time naked, with a white sheet covering him at he lays on a bed with a look in his eyes that clearly portray both how he knows the painting is being done and the love he feels for the painter, for Massie. Cam looks younger, so it's probably from years ago, before Massie and Derrick ever got together.

Derrick always assume because of how timid and delicate she was that she was a virgin, it usually didn't matter too much to him, but to have it spelt out to him basically that her first was Cam. That Cam was her only. It was a sucker-punch to the gut and more. When Cam had said Massie was tainted by him, Derrick had taken it as a dick comment to get him angry. Now he could seem what the raven-haired boy meant. Massie and Cam. _CamandMassie_. Even their names bled together, you couldn't separate them. They were tainted with each other and no one had the right to be between them. There was never room for Derrick.

The other painting was of a single boy who Derrick didn't recognize. Someone who couldn't be older then six with vivid red curls, a smatter of freckles, big ears and a huge toothy smile.

Suddenly the other door opened and there stood Massie with a cup of freshly washed brushes looking at Derrick with her held tilted as if he were just a painting too. Finally she placed the cup down and pointed at the red head and said what seemed to be the only suitable thing to say in the moment.

"That's Todd; he's my brother."

Derrick felt a shiver remembering when he had heard Massie crying the night of the car crash and the name she kept screaming.

"When he was six and I was ten we were in the car with Cam. Cam was always with Todd and me back then. Now it's only him and I. We were all with my parents and supposed to be going to dinner party a business partner was throwing for my father, but my parents got in a fight on the way. It was snowing really hard and the roads were icy and everything felt so cold."

Massie looked past Derrick and at the painting of the boy continuing, "My father, William, was mad we had given the driver the night off and didn't trust my mother, Kendra, to drive but she insisted. She was angry that my father was forcing us to go to another dinner party for business, she wanted to stay home. They were just using sharp words but then it started to turn into a screaming match. They weren't watching the road anymore and something happened and then the car skid and Kendra slammed on the brakes and William cursed, and I felt like I couldn't yell, like my voice was gone. Cam just bit his lip till it bleed, the most awful sounds barely escaping his throat and Todd was screaming and then he wasn't as we spun and crashed against the guardrail hard."

Her voice sounded far away to Derrick who stared at the portrait to, not daring to look at Massie herself.

"And there was hot metal and cold, so much cold surrounding me. My vision was all blurry from something dripping into my eyes- blood. And my head hurt so much, and my arm stung, it was hard to breath, and it all was too much. I felt like I was going to just black out, go to sleep and never wake up. I was sitting in the middle seat and Cam on my right. We had hit the left side of the car, so he was the best out of all of us. He was still bloody and cut up but he was able to get out of the car, and then he pulled me out, dragging me out of the car and before I could even ask he went back into the wreck and pull Todd out. My parents were able to get themselves out. But Todd, he was so bloody and his head had a huge gash and his eyes were closed. And that's when I remembered how as soon as we hit the rail his screams had stopped. And that's when I started screaming."

Closing his eyes now Derrick saw the gruesome picture in his head.

"I could barely move but I was kneeling over him screaming and screaming and screaming and the car in front of us nothing but bent metal and torn fabric was on fire. And all I could do was scream. It wasn't till Cam covered my mouth and pulled me against his chest that I stopped. The snow kept falling and the ice stung my knees and it was like the rest of the world was untainted but I could see the blood seeping into the white and I knew I could never be the same."

Turning around to look at her she locked eyes with him and for the first time Derrick felt like they were really seeing each other.

"I came to ask you something," He started roughly, cracking his voice slightly, then gesturing to the other paintings, "but I got my answer."

Giving him a sad smile she said in the soft voice he had come to think he loved, "I'm sorry."

But with was then he realized he didn't love her. He didn't even really know her. All those times he had claimed Massie was his girl, when in truth she had always belong to Cam and Cam to her. Cam knew about Massie. He had known about Todd, he knew about all the sad things, the bad things, all the things that tainted someone who Derrick had always mistaken to be innocent. Cam knew it and loved it all. Maybe Derrick could try to learn and love but the truth was it wouldn't matter.

"It's okay. I was stupid not to see it. It was always you and Cam. It will always be."

Looking at all her paintings of the boy she did love, the smile on her face was one Derrick had seen but never been able to bring out. The one reserved for Cam.

"You're not a bad guy Derrick. You deserve a nice girl, the right girl. I was never that. I will always belong next to Cam."

Her voice sounded firmer and more sure of herself then she had ever spoken in the six months Derrick had been with her and the two months before he had spent just knowing her.

Every picture of them seemed to be done with such precision and care. Pain staking brush strokes and details thoughtfully asking. With out asking he already knew she never once painted him with her. Only Cam.

"I think a part of me always knew that. I just wanted to close my eyes and make this last a little longer is all."


End file.
